


Video Games

by Nigaishin



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Domestic, Drabble, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaishin/pseuds/Nigaishin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You sure you don't want to try that blasted thing, Sanders?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Video Games

**Author's Note:**

> Betas: blackangel_life and redleaf0 over at LJ  
> Slightly revised from 2005 edition, but still all the same.

 

 

 

Greg had been surprised when, that night, just before their shift started, Hodges had come up to him in the locker room and dropped a slim package in his lap, sneering a bit.

 

In fact, the CSI's eyebrows had shot up and threatened to join his hair for good. It would have been an awful sight, really.

 

It had taken him all of ten seconds to get the object unwrapped, and by then Hodges had already left the room, missing the goofy grin that had spread over Greg's lips at the sight of his favorite videogame.

 

His lover had probably had to go through hell just to get his hands on a copy of the newest Final Fantasy Greg had been moping about for over a month, after finding out it was sold out about three weeks before it even came out.

 

He had meant to go and thank him, but then Cath had come in and asked if he was on crack or what, given the giddy look, and when he had held the game up as an explanation, Nick had promptly managed to spot it and the following ten minutes were spent "awwww"ing over the newest addiction to Greg's collection, and then Grissom had dropped a couple bazillion folders of tests to review in his lap, and so...

 

When, about an hour later, the young CSI had walked into the Trace lab, his thanks were brushed off by a sharp "whatever gets you to shut the hell up over breakfast, Sanders".

 

But still, the look in the older tech's eyes was warm and pleased, and so it was okay, no hard feelings, and Greg had had to fight the urge to jump him right then and there, opting for a more practical blush before scampering away, happy.

 

The rest of the night had been spent observing his lover, almost getting caught by Grissom and bumping into Ecklie twice because he had been standing there staring dumbly at him through the glass walls of the lab.

 

Hodges, who looked at him with an incredulous light in his eyes when Greg asked him if he wanted to play videogames with him.

 

Hodges, who disliked his videogames with a passion, but still liked to sprawl on the couch by his side when he played, even if Greg jumped and wriggled and was just so damn loud and wouldn't sit still, and reading his books would be an almost impossible task.

 

Hodges, who snorted and rolled his eyes at him when Greg played through lunch and his stomach started growling in protest and yet his eyes wouldn't leave the screen, and got up to fix his young lover a sandwich even if he knew the CSI would only shake his head and mutter a frantic chant of swearwords and pleadings, some of which, he had to admit, were undoubtedly amusing [like, "not-now-not-now-not-now-can't oh shit just move” or “what the fuck do you think I'm hitting the fucking triangle button for, you bitch, double entendre issues? Get the fuck going!", and yeah, video games got his filthy mouth working like crazy].

 

Hodges, who kept his gaze on whatever he was reading, but smirked a little when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Greg's fingers reaching out for the food and stuff it quickly in his mouth, pink tongue peaking out to lick the crumbles off lest he got sticky prints everywhere, before hastily return them onto the PS controller and glare at the TV.

 

Hodges, who bitched at him because he was such a brat, and rolled his eyes at him and Nick when neither raised at the insult, too engrossed in some new game of theirs.

 

Hodges, who gently pried the controller out of Greg's slack fingers when he fell asleep playing, and helped him crash on the couch or half-carried him in the bedroom, and shushed him back to sleep if he stirred while he quietly eased him out of his clothes and into bed, brushing his hair out of his eyes before turning the light off and going back to the living room.

 

Hodges, who, despite his dislike for videogames, had learned how to save the game so that Greg's fun wouldn't be spoiled, even if that had meant stealing his lover's flashlight and sneaking through stacks of boxes in the back of his closet, and sitting there all night trying to make sense of booklets talking about how Select and R1 or maybe the Square button would do the trick.

 

Hodges, whose name was David and Greg liked to call Dave, especially during sex, when the last part of it was usually swallowed up by a breathy moan or a scream of release, and happiness.

 

Dave, who was now looking at him with an half-exasperated face, lying on the couch with one of his legs raised against the back and the other dangling on the floor, his arms around Greg's waist while the younger man lay on his chest smiling wickedly at him.

 

"You sure you don't want to try that blasted thing, Sanders? Because it's ok, it's not as if I'd get offended..."

 

"Yeah, pretty sure here. Now shut the fuck up and kiss me, won't you?"

 

And Dave Hodges smirked.

 

 

~fin


End file.
